


The Ghost of You

by bibliotaph



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam-Centric, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Curses, Dissociation, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Ronan Lynch Being an Asshole, psychic adam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:14:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22231417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliotaph/pseuds/bibliotaph
Summary: Ronan is cursed. He's invisible to everyone except for the psychics, who can only see a sliver of his outline. Helping him was immensely more difficult when they couldn't pull a hair from his head, or get the witch's name who cursed him. Then Adam Parrish comes along, traveling in a blizzard on Christmas afternoon. He comes to Ronan's door, needing shelter after being kicked out for the night. But Adam can see him. All of him. Ronan doesn't know what it means but it's gotta be a clue to breaking the curse that had made him nonexistent to the world except in photographs. Can Adam help him? Or will Ronan be stuck like this forever?
Relationships: Richard Gansey III/Blue Sargent, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 15
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if I'm back but this has been sitting in my docs since 2018 and I've been slowly working on it throughout the years. I want to finish it lol 
> 
> T/W for detailed child abuse, feelings of depression, dissociation, swearing, uhh...I think that's it...this is very heavy right now since I'm starting with Adam living with his parents. I swear it'll get better over time.

Holidays were not something Adam particularly cared for. His father was always drunk and despite his hard attempts in asking for as many hours as he could from the variety of jobs he worked during the busy holiday schedule, he usually always ended up with a blackened jaw and kicked ribs. He felt like Christmas was some sort of cruel holiday, especially because nobody was open and needed his assistance so he found himself stuck in the trailer home, locked away in his room to study because the workload he’ll get after school is back in session will be heavy.

It was a quiet Christmas that year. The snow had begun to fall a bit harder than it did when he woke up that morning and he could hear his father and mother in the main room where they were watching the game. Adam took his two thin blankets from his bed to huddle against in an attempt to chase the cold away and placed a pair of socks over both his hands and feet, breathing heavily into the scrappy piece of clothing to stop his fingers from feeling like they’ll fall off. 

It was a better Christmas than usual despite not have eaten anything since breakfast. He knew it wouldn’t last though but he still appreciated the hours he had to get ahead on school work. It was five when his father started yelling. First, it was frustration from his favorite team losing the game and because of his drunken state, he threw his glass of whiskey. His mother shouted next, angry that he made a mess which followed by a loud clap of skin hitting skin. 

Adam’s heart seized to a stop for a split second. His hand freezing from what he was writing and suddenly he was straining his ears to hear over the sport’s commenter. His body was on high alert now and he quickly took the socks over his hands off and put his schoolwork back in his backpack. If his father decided to come inside, he wouldn’t want to see anything that had to do with Aglionby. He learned that the hard way after he first announced that was where he was transferring to and a couple of days later after accidentally leaving his textbooks out on his bed. 

He sat in silence, listening intensely into the room outside his bedroom and feeling his father pacing around out of anger with the soles of his feet. His hands weren’t warm to begin with but he felt them grow numb at their tips that didn’t have anything to do with the chilling temperature. He knew it was coming… but every pound on the rickety floors couldn’t stop his body from tensing or stop his heart from pounding harshly into his ribcage. He still flinched when his father kicked his door open and he still froze up after the first punch was thrown. 

The pain was something he was use to. He’s been hit more times than he could count and some days he was unable to walk, let alone, sit up. It was something Adam knew. Expected. Yet… it was something he never got use to either. 

The feeling of being so disoriented and scattered as if he was an unsolved puzzle… it always followed after being hit. The feeling of his father’s heavy punches and kicks even after he left the room continued to make his body spasm with the anticipation that there was more to come even though, at the same time, his body felt like it was in floating in the middle of a lake.

Weightless. Unknown. Disposable.

He never realizes how much time passed after a beating. He’d lay crumpled in the corner of his room, staring between the crack in the wall and the floor as though it was the most interesting thing in the world. It would take hours before he came back to himself and willed his arms and legs to move and drag his body off from the floor to clean the wounds. His body feeling empty and hollow as though those fists sucked his very life out from existence. 

Tonight would be that kind of night, Adam thought. His face already felt as though it was put through the meat grinder and his elbow saved his fall with a loud crack but only for a moment as that pain traveled to his ribs from the kicks of his father’s boot. 

Adam never understood why his father turned to him to beat his frustrations on. He had his suspicions as to why, of course. Robert Parrish had never wanted a kid. Adam would be continuously reminded of that over and over again. _A waste of sperm is what ya are, boy. His father would yell._

Holidays were a reminder of that, in case he forgot. 

Tonight though, tonight was different. While some days his father makes Adam leave to do something outside or finish washing the dishes, he’s never been kicked out. Especially not in the middle of the winter and _especially_ not in the middle of a blizzard. 

He wasn’t sure why. He couldn’t hear over the loud thunderous voice of his father’s slurring out mixed with the grunts from his own mouth and the shouts of his mother. 

“You got two fuckin’ minutes to get out of this god damn house before I kill ya myself, you understand me, boy?” His father growled. Adam was on his stomach, his face hiding in the crook of his arm, but he heard the threat loud and clear. 

The thing with his father, however, was that he didn’t know if he was serious or not. His gut always told him he was – despite being threatened by the same warning before. Robert always would pass out on the couch before he could lift another finger or get his gun out. Adam knew though. Tonight was different.

When his father stomped out of his room, he lifted his head. His mother was standing at the edge of his doorway, watching him with nothing but a blank expression. He accepted long ago that she wouldn’t step in to help him and he couldn’t blame her. He tried to imagine what his parents' relationship looked like before he was born. It’s hard to think of his mother smiling with the large bags under her eyes and her thin, string, hair that hung off her face witheringly. Adam doesn’t remember the last time he’s seen her happy and he can’t help but think it was because he was born.

When he was younger, she had that light in her eyes. Adam remembers it. Somewhere along the way it had dimmed to nothingness. His mother stopped trying to jump in when Robert got too drunk, too loud, too violent. She warned him over and over again to stop screwing everything up but it seemed he had a knack for doing the opposite. 

“You brought this upon yourself.” She hissed harshly whenever he’d waddle to her after a hit. He was six when she refused to clean his wounds, eight when she stopped trying to step in, and ten when she ignored everything all together. She was always observing on the side, like a ghost.

They stared at each other for a second before she looked down to the floor, ashamed. “You should pack up your shit and leave, boy.” She spat. 

Adam said nothing to reply. He sluggishly pushed himself to his elbows, biting his tongue to keep from shouting from the white-hot pain that traveled up from his elbow to his hand. When he managed to steady himself, holding onto his bed for support, and he bent down to gather his backpack. He shuffled to his closet and grabbed another outfit from one of the hangers and a pair of sweats and an extra jacket. He expected to be able to come home tomorrow morning but he wanted the extra padding for his textbooks and notebooks so they didn’t get water damaged from the snow. He wrapped his clothes around his school supplies diligently and quickly before throwing on his extra jacket. He winced at how sore and bruised his body felt, wanting nothing more but to climb into bed and fall asleep but he’ll be damned if his father enters his room again. When he turned to see if his mother was still at the doorway, finding it empty, he swiftly grabbed the box under his bed and shoved his money in his pockets. 

He threw his backpack over his shoulders with an agonizing slowness before slipping his shoes on. He would regret not buying new shoes for the winter. He didn’t own any proper winter attire so he knew his feet will be at risk for frostbite because not only were they thin, weary, things – but they also had holes. He had scraped up enough money for his Aglionby outfit, which wasn’t even new. It was already worn by past students but it was all he could afford. That was where all his money went towards; next to paying for classes. Part of him wondered if he should take the uniform but he was on break and didn’t need it, however, it still made his worry that his father might go searching around and find it.

In the end, he left it at home. He hobbled out the front door, his mother glaring behind him as she locked the door and went to go either to bed or suffer through the rest of his father’s rage. 

***

Flakes fell heavily overhead. The cold biting through his two jackets and as soon as his feet hit the slushy snow below, his feet were soaked to the bone. It had been snowing all day, off and on, and most of it had melted during those off sessions. So Adam grabbed his rustic red bike and biked away from the trailers. 

It wasn’t long before his fingers grew numb and his legs physically hurt from the chilled weather. Adam didn’t know how long he had been biking for but when he looked down at the watch on his wrist it was half-past eight. 

He doesn’t think he’d ever been so cold before. His body wracking with shivers so violent that he was sure he’d crash his bike and if that happened he didn’t think he’d ever get back up. Winter was always hard in the trailer home… the heater never properly worked so he thought he built up a tolerance to the cold. But based on how scrawny he was, having nothing over his bones, it was impossible to escape the frigid air. 

Just when Adam didn’t think he could continue, each breath he took piercing his lungs like a sharp knife, something told him to stop. He pulled his brakes, skidding a bit, and looked to his left. There was a snowy indent between the trees and his gut told him to enter. That something was there and waiting for him. Adam had no idea where he was, having biked endlessly through the deserted streets and completely missed the turn to town. The invisible pull was hard to ignore though so he turned his watery bike toward the opening. His hands were bright red and had gone stiff and numb and his legs burned from the hours he spent working his muscles. The cold mixed with his newly formed bruises made him want to break down, overwhelming his chest with something so intense and terrifying that he had to swallow and push it aside. He couldn’t afford to do much of anything right now but find shelter and warmth. 

It wasn’t long until he came face to face with a large house-like-mansion. The lights were on and he could peer through inside the windows. It looked inviting and right now his body was begging him to get inside and get warm while his pride told him to suck it up. He couldn’t ignore the exhaustion, however. If he stayed outside any longer, he might just drop dead at any moment. So Adam staggered up the steps and onto the porch, leaving his bike behind him and knocked.

It was a timid knock. His hands hurt too much for him to put much effort into it. For a split second, his heart squeezed in his chest again. What was he doing? Knocking on another family’s door on Christmas? They were probably eating by now or having a cheerful and peaceful night and he just knocked without thinking. God, he felt like an idiot. He was going to ruin their night by asking if he could what? Come in and warm-up? He was glad he knocked so quietly because maybe they didn’t hear him.

Adam turned suddenly, his face warming slightly from embarrassment and he started for the steps again. Before he could get any further from the first step, however, he heard the door squeak open. 

“Hey, the fuck do you think you’re doing out here?” A male’s voice rang over the whistle of the winter wind. It was not kind but it was curious – surprised even. Adam immediately tensed and he closed his eyes with regret. He screwed up. 

“I–I… Um…” Adam stammered, he turned again to face the man, who actually looked like a boy. Someone who was his own age, to be exact. He had strikingly sharp blue eyes that reminded him of the icicles and his hair was shaved to a buzz. His lips curled with disgust at the sight of Adam and he was suddenly aware of the thin screen that separated the two of them. He wore a thick black sweater and grey sweats with fluffy-looking white socks. Adam didn’t think he would have been asleep at this time but he doesn’t know the man's lifestyle.

“Jesus Joseph and Mary, did you _bike_ here?” He snarled. 

“I’m sorry,” Adam blurted out. God, he was probably trespassing, “I didn’t think about it. I’ll leave now.” He turned again and heard the scuffling of boots hitting the wood, loudly. 

“Hey, wait! Jesus fuck you’re literally a fucking icicle, man.” He said, grabbing Adam by the shoulder. It was too late to realize he’d gone as stiff as a board before the man let go as though he was burned. And maybe he did. It was a good chance Adam was so cold he burned whatever touched him. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t mean to knock. I was just…”

“Don’t lie. Get the fuck inside before you freeze to death.” The man said angrily. He strode back inside, slamming the screen door harshly behind him and Adam stood for a moment, wondering if he should follow him or risk the chances of dying by natural causes. He opted for the former, however, because standing inside a house with a heater sounded blissful. So Adam latched his frozen fingers on the door handle and stepped inside.

The house _was_ warm. It was the kind of warmth he hadn’t felt in forever – with Christmas lights illuminating the hallway and a beautifully handcrafted green wreath hung up on the door as he closed it. The smell of cooked ham followed by several different seasonings, that he couldn’t name, attacked his nose and his mouth automatically begun to water and his stomach growled loudly as soon as he entered the house. 

The setting itself was warm too – with its dark wooden floorboards and darkened walls. They were covered with paintings from what looked to be like Ireland and various pictures of the family. Two parents and three boys. The older two looking much more like their father, with their dark curly hair and stark blue eyes and sharp facial features; whilst the younger boy matched his mother’s blond curls and soft lineaments, his eyes also blue but they were also just as gentle as their mother’s. They were smiling brightly in the photograph and Adam felt suddenly nauseated from the sight. It was a feeling he felt often from passing his fellow peers, jealous of their carelessness over how much money they could spend and their fancy brand new uniforms and clothing. He looked away quickly and walked into the room where the boy with the shaved head entered in. 

A Christmas tree stood in the corner of the room. It looked fresh based on how green it was and the smell of pine wafted his nose, mixing in with the delicious smell of their Christmas feast. The lights seemed to glow more dew like than the lights that hung on the walls. The ornaments illuminated off of each other and the room showed brightly from small beads of rainbow across the furniture and fireplace. Adam had been in the house for less than five minutes and it felt very intimate. So much different from the cold trailer he lived in that contained nothing but shadows and monsters 

Adam was almost too busy admiring the room to notice the boy had come back with a folded blanket in his hands. 

“You can sit on the couch you know.” He said bluntly, throwing the blanket onto it for Adam’s use. 

“T-Thank you.” Adam chattered out as politely as possible. He did not sit on the couch but he grabbed the blanket from where it sat and right away he paused his movements. The material was unbearably soft and he decided he wanted to die with this surrounding his body. He let out a small gasp as his fingers threaded between the fuzz and hadn’t noticed how much time he spent just feeling the thick fabric before the boy was coughing into his fist, looking at him pointedly. Adam felt his cheeks warm again, dropping to blanket back on the couch so he could take his backpack off. 

He winced as he slipped his school supplies off his shoulders, gritting his teeth together so he wouldn’t get out a pained whine. He placed his bag on the floor, careful not to touch the couch and threw the blanket over his shoulders. It was as if it was one of those heated blankets he heard his peers boast about except there wasn’t a plug anywhere in sight despite it already thawing his freezing body. 

“Sure,” The boy said with a shrug. “Uh, you want anything to eat? Because you look like absolute shit, man.” 

Adam glared up at him, the bruises on his face pulled against his skin. “I’m fine. I just need to warm up a bit and I’ll be on my way.” 

The boy looked at him as if he grew two heads. “The fuck? You’re going back out there?” He sounded angry when inviting him inside and angry when Adam said he would leave. What was this guy’s problem?

“Yeah,” Adam huffed out.

Adam watched as the boy raised his hand to the back of his fuzzed head, breathing heavily through his nose and out with his mouth. “Man, I don’t know if you know this but you’ll definitely die out there if you leave.” He said curtly. 

Adam shrugged, “I’ll live. It’s Christmas, after all. I don’t mean to intrude on you and your family.”

The boy scoffed. “Are you this dumb when it comes to fighting too?” Adam flinched. “If you haven’t noticed already, I’m alone.”

To tell the truth, Adam had noticed the lack of noise that failed to echo throughout the house. He imagined three boys would cause a lot of ruckus. The thought should have concerned him but he was too tired to simply move. His body ached and begun to tingle as warmth flooded through him.

When he failed to speak, the boy started talking again. “I have a spare bedroom you can use.”

“I don’t want your charity.” Adam bit out. “I’ll be fine.” 

For a moment, he thought the boy would pull him from the collar of his jacket and demand he stays. His nostrils flared out and his pupils narrowed into slits and his hands fisted by his sides. His head was screaming at him to run run run. He stood his ground instead.

“Fine,” The boy spat. “Freeze for all care.” He sneered and stormed into the kitchen and started banging drawers open and closed with more force than necessary. 

Adam didn’t exactly know what to do now but he didn’t think he was welcomed anymore. He took the blanket off his shoulders with care, nearly crying out with the sudden loss of heat, and folded it neatly like it was before. He grabbed his backpack and started for the door, intending to leave, but was stopped by the loud stomps of the boy’s feet. 

“The hell do you think you’re going?” 

Adam froze. He might die outside in the blizzard but he was definitely going to die inside by the hands of a complete stranger.

“Jesus Christ,” The boy sounded worn out. Adam turned consciously. “At least eat something before you go.” 

His stomach growled again from hearing the word. The delicious smell of ham hit him once more and he instantly wanted to accept his offer. The boy must have heard the sound of a dying whale and Adam glowered at him when a shark-like smirk appeared over his lips. 

“Fine,” Adam mumbled. He hated the fact he was consenting to be offered food. He wondered if he could repay this generosity somehow. 

“Cool. Foods in the kitchen.” The boy turned and motioned Adam to follow. “Put your bag down, man. Stay awhile.” 

Adam reluctantly lowered his bag to the floor again as he followed him to the kitchen. It was massive, nearly as big as the trailer all together with the wooden dining table with six matching chairs and the biggest island he’d ever seen. It held all sorts of food: cooked ham, potatoes and gravy, roasted vegetables that were seasoned delicately. Desserts like pie and chocolate littered on one side of the counter and two gorgeous candles surrounded with beautifully crafted giant scarlet-colored flowers, arranged with baby’s breath in the center. 

Adam was star-struck from just looking at the counter full of food he would only see on the tv. “I’m in heaven, aren’t I?” Adam mumbled to himself. “I died on my way here.” The boy seemed to have heard him though and gave him a canine grin. 

“You’re not dead yet.” He said, handing Adam a porcelain plate.

“You’re not going to poison me, are you?” Adam asked skeptically. He really wasn’t thinking anything through right now. His head told him one thing while his gut said another.

The boy looked mildly offended and highly amused. “Now why the hell would you ask that?”

“You’re the only one here yet… you made enough food to last an entire month.” Adam rationalize. He eyed each plate carefully as if he could spot something different to indicate he was about to be murdered. 

The boy barked out a laugh and Adam jumped slightly. “Just eat, man. You ask so many questions. Maybe I like to eat leftovers.” But he didn’t go for his own plate, instead, he settled himself on one of the island’s bar chairs. 

“You’re… you’re not going to eat?” Adam asked. The boy simply gave him a sideways glare and looked away, placing the palm of his hand under his chin. 

Adam shook his head and started cutting up bits of ham onto his plate. Once his plate was semi-full — not wanting to take too much — he sat down on the opposite end of the counter. A chair between the two.

He chewed quietly. The meat melted as soon as his tongue wrapped around it and the roasted vegetables were just as flavorful as he expected. 

“What’s your name?” The boy asked after a long five minutes of watching him chew. Adam tried to hide how heavenly everything was but he didn’t know how well he was able to deceive. 

“Adam. Adam Parrish.” He replied, clanking his fork on the plate as he looked up.

“Lynch.” He revealed, looking bored. Adam guessed they were only on last name basis — which he could accept.

“Lynch,” Adam repeated, clearing his throat, “thank you for letting me warm up and eat something.” 

The boy shrugged. “It’s whatever.” He grumbled. 

It went quiet after that. Adam felt awkward sitting there and took a few more bites from his plate every minute or two. He wasn’t very good at the whole socializing thing and he had a feeling Lynch wasn’t either. Despite that, however, Adam managed to eat everything on his plate and he fiddled with his fork for another second before speaking again.

“I–I can… help clean up if you’re not going to eat. Do dishes or somethin’.” 

Lynch looked over to him and he knew he was being studied. 

“Where’d you get beat up at?” Lynch bluntly asked. Adam swerved his head up at the sudden change of topic, wincing at how straightforward he sounded.

“None of your damn business,” Adam said, heatedly. His Henrietta accent cut through the air sharply. He scowled at himself witheringly and silently for slipping up. Lynch was obviously up with the higher class and if he didn’t know already, the richer boy will identify his own class now.

The boy stared at him, not the least bit of intimidated by Adam’s anger. Instead of replying back with equal heat, Lynch sighed. “If you want to do anything for me, you can sleep here for the night.” Adam was about to argue, opening his mouth to resort but Lynch beat him to it. “Listen, man, it’s crazy cold out there and by now the amount of snow is deep enough that it’ll be impossible to bike anywhere.”

Adam couldn’t argue with that statement. He looked out the window, watching the flakes of snow rain down quickly and continued piling up by the second. “I’m just trying to help you out. If you’re so hell-bent on repaying me for doing something nice for a stranger, you can stay here so I don’t have a dead guy on my conscious.” Lynch continued, but not kindly. There was a bite to his words and Adam felt like the boy was trying hard to keep himself in check just so Adam wouldn’t be scared away. 

As Adam thought, Lynch got up from his chair abruptly and begun filing through the different sized cabinets and cupboards. He pulled out a variety of sized jars and lids for what Adam could only assume was for the leftovers. 

Lynch knew Adam was curious but he refused to ask the question as to why he made all this food if nobody was going to eat it in the first place. Since he doubts he would get an answer, Adam kept it to himself, annoyed at the expeditious change of mood.

“Fine,” Adam said, “I’ll sleep here for the night.” He grumbled. 

Lynch paused his work for a moment. He didn’t smile or smirk but he did look bored. He nodded, however, and braced his hands over the counter and leaned his body weight with his arms. “You can sleep in Declan’s room.” Was all he said before pushing back and began walking out the room. Adam scrambled out of his seat and followed hastily upstairs after grabbing his backpack.

Declan’s room was closest to the stairs than the other couple of closed doors, and when they entered, Lynch turned one of the lamps on. Adam automatically figured that this boy was sophisticated in several areas of expertise. His wall lined up with books and there was a sleek desk that sat across from the full-sized bed in the center of the room. The room looked to have not been used in a while, Adam noted. There was a thin line of dust on every flat surface he had a close view of. He also observed that the doorknob had a lock installed, and Adam wondered if Lynch chose this room for him knowing he was hesitant to sleep over in a house with someone whom he wasn’t familiar with. He wondered if they all had locks because Adam didn’t think Lynch would give him the only enabled lock in the house. After all, he was the one who is transpassing. 

“Bathroom is across from you,” Lynch said and walked out of the room. Adam stared at the empty space and heard a different door at the other end of the hallway shut. He closed his own door, locked it securely, and unzipped his bag. His notes weren’t damaged or wet thanks to his extra pair of clothes he brought with him but those were indeed wet. So he took everything out and laid them accordingly to dry. 

Adam didn’t bother looking through Declan’s drawers or closet. They weren’t his clothes to wear. And instead of crawling under the covers, no matter how much he wanted to, he laid over the smooth duvet and stared up at the ceiling. He wondered if his father would want him home tomorrow before breakfast… wondered if he would even notice. Adam only had to unload some trucks in the afternoon and that was all he was able to snag since Boyd was closed again for the 26th and technically it was his day off from the Factory. 

Despite the chill of the blizzard outside, Adam was warm and content laying over the bedsheets. The exhaustion hit him quickly, feeling it deep in his bones. But the pain didn’t match how tired he felt so it was enough to loll him to sleep straight away.

***

He woke up feeling worse than he did the day before. Adam rarely moved in his sleep so his muscles locked up and stay coiled together until he had the strength to move and stretch. A sliver of sunlight peered through the navy blue curtains and landed brightly over the shiny wooden floor, which made Adam blink rapidly as his eyes adjusted. With slow movements, Adam sat up. He knew last night hadn’t been a dream, his aching body was proof of that but the hospitality from Lynch was something he didn’t know if he made up or not. Despite how bruised up he was, Adam had gotten some of the best sleep he had in… well… forever. 

Adam climbed off of the bed, smoothing out the ruffled areas where he slept to make it look as though he never existed, and grabbed his backpack. He had an extra pair of clothes but unfortunately, he was too tired to set them out and they were still freezing and wet from the snow the night before. He could make do with the clothes he still had on, he just hoped it wasn’t obvious and he didn’t give off a stench that would disgust Lynch. Adam sighed to himself, his shoulders sagging as he breathed. He wasn’t thinking of anything in particular but the quietness of the house settled him. It was nice, hearing the birds chirp instead of dogs barking or his parents yelling in the next room over. 

He tossed his bag over his shoulder carefully and made his way to the door. He entered the bathroom that was across from him like Lynch had promised and avoided looking in the mirror as long as he could. He relieved himself, washed his hands and face, then looked at his reflection. He cringed slightly at the sight. He looked tired, very tired. Bruises lined his jaw and one settled itself over the side of his nose. He didn’t blame Lynch for asking… but he would be damned if he told him what happened. 

Just then the door rattled and a curse broke through the other side. Adam tensed, waiting for the thundering sound of his father but instead heard a lighter knock echoing. 

“Hey, Parrish. You almost done or what?” Lynch’s voice was slightly muffled but Adam heard loud and clear. He opened the door and stood face to face with the sharp gaze of Lynch’s glare. 

“It’s all yours,” Adam replied, stepping around him. The taller boy narrowed his eyes at him before speaking again.

“Breakfasts’ downstairs.” He said, then entered the bathroom and closed the door with a loud bang. 

Adam wondered if Lynch was always in this kind of grumpy mood. Always loud, never quiet or content. It seemed exhausting. 

He made his way down the stairs, his steps light against the old wood. He automatically smelt cinnamon and something doughy… Like freshly made bread that wafted outside when he passed by the bakery. It wasn’t long before he realized there were actually a couple of different plates of food spread out like the night before. Cinnamon rolls with the heavenly sugar on top, waffles so fluffy and hot that steam was still rising from the small stack, bacon and scrambled eggs on another plate. Adam was baffled and confused as to why there was again — so much food. 

“Didn’t know how you liked your eggs so I scrambled them.”

Adam jumped and swiftly turned around to find Lynch behind him with his pajamas still on and hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweats. He still looked incredibly comfy despite the harsh glare he was giving the wall to Adam’s right. 

“Scrambled… is fine…” Adam replied hesitantly. Then asked, “Why… did you make so much again?”

Lynch shrugged. “I don’t know what you like. Why? You allergic to something?” He asked, a brow raising curiously. Adam simply shook his head. “Good. Then I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.”

Adam bit his lip. “I appreciate all of it, really.” Somehow he would have to repay Lynch. All of this was almost too much. Especially because it seemed it was just him in the house. The boy moved towards him and Adam felt himself tense slightly, his mind already trying to predict what he would do, but Lynch simply moved to the side of him and walked to the island. 

“Eat up.” Lynch encouraged, though his tone was monotone as he sat back on the same chair as last night. Adam didn’t move for a moment, confused and weary. He didn’t want to anger the boy, however. He himself had just woken up and really didn’t want to start something when he was still half asleep. 

Adam grabbed another glass plate that was set out for him and he gathered some eggs and a few slices of bacon before grabbing a waffle. He set himself down and grabbed maple syrup. Then glanced over at Lynch wearly. “Are you not… going to eat again?” He asked.

Lynch looked over towards him and sighed heavily. “Guest’s first. Honestly, did your mom ever teach you anything?”

Adam narrowed his eyes but didn’t comment. Instead — and surprisingly — Lynch continued. 

“I know these psychics and they… recommended me to make a lot of food on Christmas night.” He told him blankly. He turned his body around to face Adam. “So I did. And you showed up.” 

Adam wasn’t sure what this had to do with anything but it was odd either way. 

“So… What?” Adam asked, clearly confused as he took a bite of his waffle. It tasted absolutely divine with a hint of lemon. He wasn’t sure when the last time he ate so well. Eating both dinner and breakfast was a rarity.

Lynch looked like he was constipated with the way he angry scrunched his face up. “So…” He goaded, undeniably becoming irritated. “You came here for a reason. Why?” 

Adam furrowed his brows, his lips thinning. “It’s none of your business,” He repeated what he said from the night before. “If you think just because you offered me a place to stay for the night—”

“— God, Parrish. It’s not like I’m asking you for your whole life story.” He rolled his eyes. “I asked why you stopped here. The closest neighbor is miles down the road on either side of me. Why didn’t you stop there?” 

Adam leaned back in his chair, annoyed. “I don’t know, Lynch. I was cold.” Though he remembered the invisible pull towards the house. How it felt so right as he stepped up the porch steps and shivering violently from the sharp winds. 

“Bull,” Lynch quickly stated. 

“If you don’t like what I’m telling you then don’t ask.” Adam snapped. This made Lynch grin.

“What are you, Adam Parrish…” He leaned forward slowly, his tone threatening with a hidden depth of wonder.

Adam glared at him and didn’t reply. He wasn’t sure what he meant. “I should go.” 

He stood up, wiping his mouth with a napkin before making his way back upstairs to get his things. Lynch had nothing to say but Adam could feel his gaze trailing over him as he turned his back. Even when he returned downstairs and made his way to the door, Lynch never said a word. He simply watched with snake-like eyes and followed him to the entrance of the house.

“Thank you again for everything.” Adam made sure to say. Though his tone indicated he was less than happy about it. 

He opened the front door and a sudden gust of wind made Adam shutter with goosebumps. His bike was nearly frozen, stuck against the house as though fate wanted him to stay. He refused that option, however, and ripped it away from the edge of the house, hoisting himself up and wincing at the bruises on his ribs as he began moving down the snowy pavement. Adam turned back only once… But the door was closed and the lights were off and Lynch was no longer in sight.

Adam had returned home that morning, slipping back into the house as quietly as a mouse. The trailer was not welcoming, not as bright, not as warm as it was at Lynch’s. And Adam felt a pang of sadness in his chest. Neither his father nor his mother had realized he came home so he left a note stating he was going to work for a few hours and will return before dinner. The snow had stopped falling, thankfully. And for the rest of winter break, the town of Henrietta had no more blizzards or major storms. It was also the last time he saw Lynch. 

That was until Adam walked through the front doors of Aglionby and made eye contact with those frosty blue eyes and watched a cunning grin form over Lynch’s lips.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to self: never post at the beginning of a new semester. 
> 
> It's been a hot minute but it's been an insane half-year, huh? I hope everyone is staying safe. You're important.
> 
> On another note: I made butter cake the other day and it's absolutely delicious! It was also my birthday last month and despite quarantine-ing, I had a lot of fun relaxing. I even took a nap! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and I apologize for it taking so long. I haven't given up on it - life happened.

Adam wasn’t sure exactly what was supposed to happen when he saw Lynch but he pivoted and pretended he didn’t see him at all and cursed at himself for not seeing this coming. That suddenly he’ll be seeing Lynch everywhere he went, and the boy obviously had enough money to afford Aglionby. The thing was, however, Adam had been attending his own studies at Aglionby for half a year now and he hadn’t seen Lynch once. 

He looked exactly the same, except he wore his Aglionby uniform, collar misshapen, and tie not actually tied but hanging around his neck. He looked like he was about to take a boy by the legs and use him as a bowling ball on the others. Adam wanted no part of that so he decided he would put his items in his locker later during the day.

But as the day wore on and each period passed, Adam didn’t see him again. He very explicitly tried not to search for him but the later it became, the more interested he was in finding him. He left school feeling a bit out of sorts. Lynch looked to be his age so he should have been in some of his classes, right? Perhaps he was wrong in that area but Adam just couldn’t place his finger on it and ended up more disappointed by the time it the last bell rung. 

Adam rode his bike to Boyd’s. It was no longer snowing like it had been that Christmas evening which made it easier for him to travel. He changed out into his work clothes, carefully folding his Aglionby uniform away and tucked it neatly in his backpack. He smiled weakly and waved at Boyd when he entered.

“Adam! There you are…you have an appointment with a woman named...Blue Sargent this afternoon.” Boyd exclaimed with a raspy grunt. 

Adam nodded, taking a dirty cloth and placing it on top of a car they’d been working on for a few days. ’Blue’ was an odd name, he thought. Very unique and different. It wasn’t like ‘Violet’ or ‘Rose’ or even ‘Emerald’ - not that he ever met any women by those names either - but the name struck a chord inside him -- wishing he could be something as unique as a name like that. “What’d she need?” He then asked, drifting from his thoughts.

Boyd hummed, tilting his head and staring upward, his hand rubbing down his beard. “Truck troubles...she wasn’t very specific now that’d I think of it.” He replied, his own Henrietta accent far thicker than Adam’s. “I think somethin’ was wrong with ‘er engine. Wouldn’t be surprised with the cold and all.”

Adam couldn’t help but agree. He worked on the car that was already in the warehouse, replacing the engine with the new parts they ordered about two weeks ago. He was elbow deep in it, arms smudgy with oil and panting in old fumes of gasoline when he heard a car pile-up and near the garage doors. Adam cocked his head to the side to see a small woman jump out of the truck, angrily whispering something to…

Adam straightened quickly, his head hitting the hood of the car, and a bark of laughter from the passenger side of her car echoed. Lynch sat inside, smirking devilishly at him as the women turned, expression softening. 

“Adam Parrish?” She called, slamming the door shut and walking toward him. Adam was so starstruck in seeing Lynch that he nearly forgot to answer.

“Yes, ma’am…” He confirmed, wiping his hands on the dirty piece of cloth nervously. 

“Thank god...Ronan wouldn’t stop bugging me about finding you.” Blue said, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

Adam was sure Ronan was who was sitting in the passenger side of the door. Ronan Lynch. It had a sort of ring to it that made him engaged - like he was sitting on the edge of his seat. Blue must have noticed that his stare had drifted from her to Ronan and she clapped her hands. 

“You _can_ see him?” She asked, waving Ronan from the car with impatience.

Adam was confused by the question. “Uh...yes ma’am...I can see him…?” He watched as Ronan glanced around before the car door opened and Ronan walked out. Today he was wearing black ripped jeans and a matching black shirt. His eyes more striking than earlier that morning though more dangerous and up to no good.

“What does he look like?” Blue asked eagerly.

“I’m sorry...are you here for me to fix your truck?” Adam asked instead, this bizarre conversation was getting close to _weird_. 

“No. I just needed her to drive me.” Ronan suddenly spoke up, his voice tainted with the usual grumps. Adam cocked his head to the side, his brows raising. “Don’t look like that. She’ll explain everything. Answer her question.”

“Are you speaking to him right now?” Blue demanded, snapping slightly. Adam turned his head towards her.

“Yeah. He said you’ll explain everything.” He explained. Blue looked amazed. 

“Are you busy right now? We really need to talk about Ronan, here.” 

Adam glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “I can take my break, I guess.” Blue smiled.

“Perfect.”

***

Adam led them to the back of the garage for some privacy. He had a feeling whatever Blue and Ronan needed to tell him was important. He felt a tingle of excitement go through his fingers thinking about it because somehow his very structured lifestyle was suddenly changing and the thought exhilarated him. Adam sat down on the cement and invited Blue to take the lone chair.

“I should introduce myself.” Blue started. 

She was pretty in a sort of mysterious way. She was short, that was the first thing he observed, but her hair stuck out every which way and clipped to decency by an assortment of colored hair clips. She wore odd clothes that Adam figured she created. A sewed patterned shirt covering one half of her side onto a black long sleeve and pants that had small little black beads making a pretty pattern. Already Adam was drawn to her.

“I’m Blue. Yes, that’s my real name. No, I’m not taking questions on it.” She stated firmly. “I live at the old psychics’ house on 300 Fox Way. The only reason I’m telling you that is because Ronan says he trusts you.”

Adam cocked his head to the side, his eyes sliding to Ronan. “We met one other time,” Adam told her confused. “Are you s psychic?” 

“No. I can only...feel his energy. I’m not like my mom who can...sorta see him.” She replied, glancing at Ronan too. “Ronan...He’s uh, invisible.”

Adam’s excitement faded dully. That didn’t make any sense since he could clearly see Ronan as though he was right in front of him - he was right in front of him. “...I can see him just fine…”

“That’s the thing.” Blue raised her hand and moved a strand of hair from her face. “Nobody but you can see him. My mom is able to communicate with Ronan briefly but we can’t really see him.”

“I was cursed.” Ronan cut in. Adam snapped his head toward him, jaw-dropping. “By a witch.”

“You’re kidding me,” Adam stated, shaking his head. “How is that even possible? And why me?”

Ronan answered the same time Blue did. 

“Who the hell knows.” 

“We think perhaps your souls might be tied.”

Ronan looked pissed at Blue’s confession. “What the fuck? Nobody told me that.” He snapped. Of course, Blue didn’t reply. She glared at Ronan though she couldn’t see him. Adam thought maybe she could sense his sudden change in energy because he sure did.

Blue continued. “We don’t know exactly. Ronan came to visit a couple of days before Christmas and my mom told him to prepare a feast. Of course, nobody visits Ronan except for his friend and his brother from time to time...She was very vague about the whole thing.” Blue said, waving her hand. “Ronan came by after Christmas and said a boy named Adam Parrish came to visit him and could see him perfectly. Now as you can see, that was very odd considering, well, nobody else can see him.”

Ronan glared, crossing his arms over his chest. “Way to make me look like a lonely ass loser.” And Adam had to refrain his smile.

“I’m sorry...but, I don’t really know why I can see him,” Adam told Blue honestly. “It was an accident that I happen to stumble to his home.” He remembered that night perfectly as though it happened yesterday. He pulled himself from those dark thoughts, focusing on Blue and Ronan. 

“Accident or not, you can still see him. You could be the key in freeing Ronan from this curse.” Blue said, waving off his concerns. “We’d like you to come by to see my mom. There might be something that you could tell us.”

Adam looked between the two, Blue with her fierce determination and Ronan with his grumpy attitude. There was something about him though that made Adam double think everything that he thought he knew. Still, it just didn’t make any sense. It gripped Adam tightly and made him want to know exactly what was going on. “...I get off work at six-thirty.” He finally replied.

Ronan’s head snapped toward Adam, his eyes widening with surprise. Blue, however, was thrilled. “Perfect! Here...I already wrote my address down for you.” She explained, diving her hand into the pockets of her pants and taking out a crumpled piece of paper. “We’ll be ready for you.”

Adam took her address and stared down at it with a small nod. “I’ll see you all there then.” He said decidedly. 

Blue stood up, her grin up to her ears. “Wonderful.” She agreed. 

Adam returned the smile, watching as Ronan stood up with her with a complicated expression upon his face. Even though Adam thought Ronan wasn’t the type to be jumping up and down with excitement, he did expect something other than his usual scowl. Adam turned and began to lead them out when Ronan finally spoke up.

“Tell the midget to give you money.”

Adam’s brows furrowed. “I didn’t do anything to the truck.” He reminded him, not interested in being handed free money.

Blue cocked her said to the side, noticing Adam staring behind her. “What did he say? Oh! Yes...I need to pay you for your time.”

Adam shook his head. “No...I was on my break. It’s fine.”

This time it was Blue that held the complicated expression but she simply nodded and let it be. “Well, alright.” She said, walking towards her truck. “I will need something done with this old beat-up thing though.”

“You know where I’m at,” Adam replied with a small smile. 

“See you soon, Adam.” Blue waved, hopping into the truck and starting it up. It stuttered for a second, which made Adam wince.

Ronan on the other hand hadn’t gotten into the truck yet. He stared at Adam as if he grew a second head and perhaps he did. Adam wasn’t yet convinced this was all just a hoax. It seemed ridiculous, impossible even for a man to be invisible to everyone but him. Adam gave Ronan a wave, which just made Ronan scowl and angrily climbed into the truck, slamming the door loudly. He watched them go and only turned his head when he heard the heavy door creak open. 

Boyd poked his head through the door, looking slightly startled. “Did ya make someone mad, boy?”

“No...I think they had some important business to attend to.” Adam hummed. “In a hurry, is all.” He watched a Boyd nodded his head then excused himself.

Adam returned back to his work on the car, his mind full of questions. Was this all for a show? He could be getting punked. But Blue seemed very genuine and despite knowing exactly where Ronan was sitting, her eyes went right through him. It left Adam stumped, to say the least. He was a logical guy after all. Still, his heart pounded knowing that something was happening. Something happened that Christmas night that drew him to find Ronan, and now he knows that there _was_ something. 

For the remainder of his day at Boyd’s, Adam found himself glancing up at the clock every thirty seconds, waiting for his shift to end. The paper with Blue’s address sat in the front pocket of his overalls, and it burned with the memory of it sitting there. Six-thirty couldn’t come soon enough, but of course. Without a thought of anything else, he forgot to call his parents to tell them he was coming home late.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you've enjoyed this chapter. I would appreciate it greatly :)


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